


Never Be The Same

by izoverthemoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, M/M, MWPP, MWPP Era, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Open Ending, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Finishing Up of the Marauder's Map, The Whomping Willow Incident, There will be humour, Trust Issues, You Have Been Warned, all kinds of things made their way into this, but there will be angst too, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 09:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14998046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izoverthemoon/pseuds/izoverthemoon
Summary: In which recorded the stories before and after the Whomping Willow Incident in their sixth-year. And Wolfstar. And the Marauders being the Marauders.





	Never Be The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Red's Never Be The Same.  
> What originally was an explanation for my 3:49 long wolfstar vid expanded into this.  
> Oh, and I cried writing this, so...enjoy?
> 
> P.S. The present tense is the present, the past tense is the memories (duh)

_“Well well Sirius, looking rather ragged, aren’t we? Finally the flesh reflects the madness within.”_

_“Well you’d know all about the madness within, wouldn’t you, Remus?”_

* * *

_I know you, who are you now?_

_Look into my eyes if you can't remember_

_Do you remember?_

(*)

The train flies by, blurring the views outside the window. Trees, mountains, the darkening sky, they all melt into shadows.

Remus Lupin is sitting in a corner of a compartment, head leaning against the window, eyes staring but not looking.

It’s the end of December, and they are heading back home for the Christmas holidays. But for all the festivity and the hype, Remus can’t relate, even though the interior of the Hogwarts Express is decorated with red and green wreaths and garlands.

James and Peter, who are in the same compartment as Remus, are sharing tentative glances back and forth between Remus and each other, at a loss of what to do or what to say.

Sirius is not in the compartment with them.

Things have never been this strained between the four of them – well, primarily between Remus and Sirius; James and Peter are involuntarily dragged into this mess of a fight simply because they were there when the whole thing broke out.

Come to think of it, there isn’t much of a fight. More like Padfoot is apologizing every chance he gets and Moony is steadily ignoring him. James has wanted to tell Remus to forgive Sirius, but when he thinks about The Incident that has happened, he can’t really blame Remus for being so outraged.

“Anything off the trolley dears?” Comes the cheerful voice of the trolley lady.

James grabs a packet of cauldron cakes while Peter takes interest in a bunch of liquorice wands.

“Moony? You need anything?” James asks when he’s paying for his cakes.

That shakes Remus out of his reverie, James notes with a dull amusement – anything food related can sway Remus.

“Two box of chocolate frogs, please.” He says, his voice hoarse from the two-hour disuse, and is reaching inside his coat for change when James throws five chocolate frogs on the table in front of him.

“There’s no need.” He says, with an air of finality.

Remus opens his mouth, but thinks better of it. He mutters a “thanks, Prongs”, and starts unwrapping one of the frogs.

Silence reigns again, except for the light crunching sound that’s them snacking.

“Moony?”

At the sound of his nickname, Remus looks up, just in time to see James and Peter exchanging a worried glance. He sighs inwardly.

“Yeah?” He pretends like he doesn’t know what they were about to tell him.

James swallows the first of his cakes, “you know you can talk to us, right? No need bottling it all up.”

Peter nods enthusiastically while sucking his liquorice wand.

Remus allows himself a small smile and an outward sigh.

He loves his friends, he really does. Sirius too, despite what happened. But right now, he just isn’t in the right mood to talk.

“I know, guys, and I appreciate it,” he replies, munching on his chocolate frog, “but now I need to be alone for a while.”

He pauses, then adds, “go and find Sirius, and stop him from doing anything stupid.”

Remus hasn’t meant it in a spiteful way, but James glowers nonetheless.

“That right git, he wouldn’t dare.”

“All the same, go. I’ll be fine.”

There’s no point arguing with Remus Lupin when he means what he says. Nodding, James stands up. Peter, however, remains seated, seemingly unsure of whether to go with James or stay and keep Remus company.

“Go, Pete.” Remus gives him a smile upon seeing his hesitation, “and give him one of the frogs. Just don’t say it’s from me.”

Peter, who has just finished his second to last liquorice wand, nods and grabs a frog from the table.

With a concerned look on their faces, James and Peter step out of the compartment and slide the door shut, leaving Remus effectively alone.

(*)

That school year had started ordinary enough. Train ride back, first-year Sorting, Welcoming Feast, all past by in a blur. What stood out to Remus the most during the first school term was, miraculously, each full moon; and among those full moons, it was Sirius’s stormy grey eyes that were the most distinguishable.

Those eyes.

Remus didn’t dare think about them, or their owners. Sixth year was already starting to feel like a burden without the added weight that was romantic relationship. Plus, there wasn’t any romance to begin with.

The first half of the term went by in a flurry of books, 14-inch long assignments, pranks, and laughter. Then November came.

It was one of the nastiest full moons Remus had encountered. The moon rose around quarter past eleven at night, and Remus had had to go to the shack alone because all the others were still in class.

Or so he thought.

Apparently Sirius had snuck out of Astronomy just to accompany Remus to the shack. Of course, Remus hadn’t known this until later. At that time, Remus felt more alone than ever before. With a pang in his chest, he realized he had relied too much on his friends’ company.

He reached the shack just in time. As soon as he had his clothes taken off and stored securely, the sliver of cloud shading the moon made way, and the rays of moonbeam shone through the cracks of the shack, lighting the room in its soft glow.

For Remus, however, the moon was far from gentle; it held no mercy for him.

Conjuring several magically enhanced metal chains, he secured them around his ankles and his wrists. After a final incantation to ward up the room, Remus clenched his teeth, and braced himself for the transformation.

Outside by the door of the shack stood Sirius. He saw through the cracks between the door and the wall that it was time for Remus’s transformation, and, as much as he wanted to stay, and as much as he wanted to just barge in and yank those bloody metal chains off of Remus, he knew he couldn’t, not alone.

As he was turning to leave, a huge crack of a broken bone stopped him in his tracks. Tentatively, he peered through the gap, and had to cover his mouth in horror at the scene unfolding beyond the fray wooden door.

Remus was in between his human and wolf form. As his body shifted, more bones needed to alter in order to fit the wolf. The sound of broken bones paired with Moony’s screams of agony made Sirius want to cry. He wanted desperately to help, to share the pain so that Moony didn’t need to suffer too much, but all he could do was leaning his forehead against the door helplessly, the screams – now hoarse – reverberated around him.

That was the first time he had seen Moony in the middle of a transformation, and it looked a thousand times more painful than what Moony had described to them. Nobody should go through that, especially not Moony.

Overwhelmed with his powerlessness and Remus’s misfortune, Sirius didn’t notice tears streaming down until he brought his hand up to drag it across his face. He wasn’t a crier; he had never cried when his mother beat him with whatever she could find nearby – a cane, a basin, once even a dead elf head; he had never cried when his father deemed him a “family disgrace”; he didn’t even cry when Regulus turned his back on him for the first time.

Sirius wasn’t a crier, but seeing one of his best friends in pain and not being able to help was too devastating to him.

Eventually, the screaming had stopped, and Sirius, without looking, knew that the wolf was out. Reflexively, he transfigured into Padfoot on the spot.

If not to keep Moony company, then the least he could do was to keep himself safe from the wolf so that Moony wouldn’t feel guilty afterwards.

The rest of the full moon went as usual. When James got off from Astronomy, the three of them snuck down to the Whomping Willow under James’s Invisibility Cloak, and transformed into their respective animal forms. Sirius had told the others that it would be impossible to wander into the Forbidden Forest that night, seeing that Remus had himself chained up. James had grunted in disapproval, and Peter frowned, but neither said anything.

With Padfoot and Prongs joining forces, they managed to break down the door of the shack with brute force. The wolf, still securely chained at the far end of the room, startled into awareness, and looked up. Upon seeing his usual companions, the wolf let out a soft howl.

Padfoot whined in distress at the scars on the wolf’s body, some of them so deep he could almost see the bones underneath. No matter how many times they had seen them, the scars and the wounds on the wolf’s body were still jarring to see, and Padfoot, with some level of carefulness, noses Moony’s side gently as Moony fell back to his resting position.

The night went by with the stag, the dog, and the rat huddled around the wolf in the shack, not necessarily doing anything, just keeping Moony company. They would occasionally exchange a nudge here and there, and Wormtail had even cautiously scratched its way onto the wolf’s back, but nothing exciting had happened. The fact that Moony didn’t even react to the rat on his back when he normally would shrug and nudge it off was enough testimony to how tired he actually was, and his friends knew better than to coerce him into another night of adventure.

The moon set rather late the next morning, and by the time it completely disappeared from the sky, James, Sirius, and Peter were already in class. Madam Pomfrey came ten minutes after Remus regained consciousness as a human being, and scoffed loudly but no less tenderly when she saw the chains and the blood pooling underneath him. She healed some of the larger gashes and the cuts around his wrists and ankles, gave him some privacy when he put on his clothes with some difficulty, then conjured up the stretcher and indicated Remus to lie down in it. Remus, too worn out to object, climbed in. Madam Pomfrey gave him a sad look before casting a Disillusionment Charm over the stretcher and herself, and headed straight to the Hospital Wing.

Remus was out for almost a day. When he finally woke up, it was two days after the moon. He reached his hand up to rub his bleary eyes, and groaned when the pain from his eyelid seared through him.

Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office at the sound of his anguish cry, and started to fuss around him.

“That wound still needs taken care of,” she said sternly, dipping Essence of Dittany onto his eyelid, “and there are several other wounds on your chest that you might want to avoid brushing over.”

Remus hissed when the Dittany burned his eyelid. He lowered his hand to his chest, finding it bandaged, and grazed his fingers over it. He drew in a sharp breath when the pain pierced through him.

“What did I just say?!” Madam Pomfrey snapped, batting his hand away from his chest.

The pain cleared his head, and Remus was confused as to why the wounds were taking so long to heal this time. As if reading his mind, Pomfrey gave a light huff.

“I guess the wolf side was emotional, for some reason.” She said, dropping her stern expression and gave him a sympathetic look, “you somehow managed to claw at the same places on your body multiple times.”

As she spoke, she untangled the bandages and, again, dropped Dittany over his scarred chest. The burning sensation intensified for Remus, and he had to clench his fists over the bed sheet and bit down on his lip hard to not scream out.

“They will heal in one more day, so don’t you worry. _Ferula!_ ”, she finished with a wave of her wand, and the wounds re-bandaged themselves. “And drink this. You’ll feel better.”

One look at the contents in the goblet told Remus it was Sleeping Draught. He was always given the potion after a full moon, only Merlin knew how much of it was in his system. He reached for it, nonetheless, wanting nothing more than to sleep right now, and drank it in one go.

Madam Pomfrey gave Remus a light pat on the forehead, and made sure he was under before drawing the curtains around his bed and retreating back into her office, quietly closing the door.

Two beds away from Remus’s, Sirius let out a sharp gasp of combined shock and pain, his hands grasping tight around the Invisibility Cloak.

(*)

He has finished the chocolate frogs and is examining the cards he has got. Of course he has Dumbledore again, he thinks to himself, revealing the first card. He has about eight of them in his collection already. Shaking his head, he moves to flip another.

In the end, staring up at him on the table are two Dumbledores, a Chinese alchemist called Dzou Yan, and Alberic Grunnion. Remus chuckles at the last card. It’s only fitting that every Marauder has one of Grunnion in their collections, and for all Remus knows, James is the only one that still doesn’t have this card.

The compartment door slams open just as Remus is pocketing all but Grunnion’s card. Startled, he looks up to see a fuming Lily Evans slamming the door shut.

“I can’t _believe_ him! That stupid git!” She grits through her teeth, flopping down onto the seat across from Remus.

So Lily has heard about the incident, then.

“James told me.” Lily confirms his thoughts, “oh, Remus, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What for? You didn’t do anything.”

“I could’ve stopped him!”

“Don’t try to take the blame, Lily. You didn’t do anything, and there’s no ‘could have been’s.” Remus slinks down in his seat.

“Remus –” But she sees his weariness and decides to change the subject, “can I visit during the holidays?”

Grateful for her tact, he nods, and goes along with her, “you know you’re always welcome at my parents’ place, Lils.”

She beams at him, and leans forward to squeeze his hand on the table.

“I’ll see you around then,” she gets up from the seat, “James is waiting for me outside.”

Remus doesn’t bother to question whether James has asked her to gauge his reaction to The Subject.

“Yeah, see you.”

Then he remembers the card.

“Hey Lils,” he calls, and Lily stops by the door, “give this to James, will you?”

She reaches for the card, and laughs when she sees the name of the wizard, “oh very clever, Remus. The inventor of Dungbomb? Really?”

“Well we do seem to be the ones that uses 90 percent of his invention.” Remus shrugs, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You boys and your pranks,” Lily shakes her head fondly, “I’ll make sure he gets this.”

As the compartment door slides close, Remus catches a glimpse of an anxious looking James and – his heart skips a beat when he sees him – a crestfallen Sirius. Their eyes meet, and, despite everything, Remus wants nothing more than to hug him. But all he does is remaining firmly in his spot, and he averts his eyes before the door shuts completely.

Remus is not angry anymore, not really. But forgiveness doesn’t come as easily. Especially not when the person you trust more than anyone or anything in the world betrays you.

(*)

He woke up to the muffled sound of an argument near the entrance to the Hospital Wing. Craning his neck towards the windows carefully, Remus realized it was night-time already. He sighed, and tentatively ran a hand down his covered-up chest. It still stung, but not as much as earlier that day.

The quiet argument stopped when Remus sighed again, louder this time. A moment later, James, Sirius, and Peter materialized from under the Invisibility Cloak.

They were by his bed in an instance.

“How are you feeling, Moony?” Sirius asked, while James cast a Muffliato around his curtained bed.

“I’ve been better.” He replied, his voice scratchy.

The three of them stared at him, from his face to his bandaged chest to his calves outside the blanket, their identical frowns deepening.

“You didn’t need to chain yourself up, you know.” James said, taking the chair near his bedside table.

Remus knew this conversation was coming. He exhaled, and was about to tell them that, _yes, it was absolutely necessary because otherwise I would’ve charge out of the shack and onto the school grounds unrestricted_ when James gave him a look.

“And you’re going to say it was totally necessary, aren’t you?” He sighed exasperatedly, and when Remus gave him a small smirk, James couldn’t help but return it.

“Thing is, I thought if we were around the wolf, he’d stop hurting himself.” Peter said, his eyes fixated on the slightly bloody bandages on Remus’s chest, “then why –”

“He was expecting you when he took control, but obviously you weren’t there yet” Remus answered simply, “and it’s not like you didn’t help me. You did. The bites and the claw marks happened before you guys came.”

“We should’ve gone earlier.” Sirius said, frustrated.

“You did what you could do, Sirius.” Remus shifted his eyes to the ceiling.

He didn’t know what to think. Because he remembered smelling Padfoot outside the door just after he had transformed. Had he not chained himself to the wall, he would’ve ripped the door open to see if Padfoot was really there. He tried howling, but there was no answer. And the scent only lasted several minutes. Compared to the night that he had had, those few minutes were so negligible that he might’ve imagined it.

But that canine scent was so distinctly Padfoot that Remus was sure Sirius had been there earlier than midnight.

“You slept through two days, mate.” James commented, casually placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder. The latter winced against his will, and James withdrew his hand with an apologetic look on his face.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” Remus rolled his eyes, “I get dosed with Sleeping Draught every time I come in here.”

“Well I’d rather sleep for two days straight than go to class.” Peter mumbled.

“If you paid enough attention to Slughorn then nothing would’ve happened.” James replied, not unkindly.

Remus looked from James to Peter, “what happened?”

“Wormy failed to brew a passable Draught of Living Death in Potions this morning, and Snivellus has been sneering about it in his face whenever he sees us.” Sirius said, his voice furious at the mention of Snape’s name. “Just because he had managed to concoct the potion doesn’t make him anywhere closer to a _protégé_.” He spat at the last word.

James nodded, anger obvious on his face; but when he spoke, his voice was considerably calmer than Sirius’s.

“He gloated about getting full marks on that essay we did on Golpalott’s Third Law like he was the only one.”

Remus didn’t say anything.

That essay was a bitch to write, and it had caused him two sleepless nights of research to get all the information sorted out. And as per usual, he had earned perfect marks on that assignment.

“He’s getting nastier and nastier by the minute,” Peter chimed in, “ever since James and Lily became friends.”

Ahh, so that was the fundamental reason then.

To be fair, from the moment Lily told Remus that “Potter’s not bad, actually”, he had already anticipated Snape’s bitterness. James and Severus had been nemesis the moment they laid eyes on each other; when Lily came into the picture as a romantic interest for the both of them, things took a turn for the worse.

“It’s not like he’s trying to get on her good side anyways.” James said, “Lily told me she’s sick of his passion for the Dark Arts.”

Their conversation continued from Snape to Lily to their Transfiguration lecture that afternoon, and, to Remus’s surprise, all three of them produced a decent amount of notes for the classes he had missed. Even Sirius, who was known for not bothering to note down an alphabet in class, had a small roll of parchment in his hand.

It was getting really late, to the point where Remus had to order them back to their dorm.

“Otherwise you’re not allowed to come with me next full moon.”

And he had meant it.

The three of them glared at him simultaneously, but there was no heat in their eyes. James threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself and Peter, and the two of them were moving to where Sirius was standing when the latter held up a hand.

“You guys go back first.”

James looked at Sirius inquiringly, and Sirius stared back, silently communicating with him. Peter was looking from James and Sirius to Remus, biting his lip.

Whatever exchange was going between James and Sirius, apparently Sirius won, because James backed down with a sigh.

“Fine. Don’t be too late.”

“Yes, _mum_.” Sirius rolled his eyes at James, who smacked him playfully on the head before covering himself and Wormtail with the Cloak.

“Good night, Moony.” Their disembodied voices chorused beside Sirius.

Remus grinned at the spot where they had disappeared, and replied a soft “night” before turning to Sirius.

Sirius waited, and didn’t say anything until he saw the door to the Hospital Wing had opened and closed.

“Are you really alright, Moony?”

Remus stared.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“The wounds on your chest. They were so deep I could see bones –”

“That was when I was still in wolf form, Sirius. I’m fine now.”

Sirius huffed in annoyance and slumped into the chair, “no you’re not.” He said with a wave of his hand towards Remus’s bandages.

Remus frowned.

“Sirius?”

“I – I saw.” He swallowed, and looked up into Remus’s eyes – those eyes that were so beautiful yet so full of anguish that Remus could only stare.

“I saw your wounds this morning, when Pomfrey was treating them.” Sirius told him, his voice barely above a whisper.

Remus stiffened. One of the two things he never wanted his friends to see was his wounds. Admittedly they had all seen his scars, but scars were more or less healed, and therefore less disturbing. Fresh wounds were a whole other matter.

“Moony,” Sirius tsked exasperatedly when he saw the expression on Remus’s face, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, I don’t give two shits about your scars or your wounds or whatever scratches you manage to get onto your body, alright? You’re still you, nothing’s changed.” He stared imploringly into Remus’s eyes, willing him to understand, “if anything, the wounds only mean you’re cooler and braver than three nights before.”

Remus let out a low chuckle, “thanks, Padfoot.”

“Anytime, Moony.” Sirius grinned.

Neither of them spoke after that. They just stared at each other. And that was when Remus noticed how close their faces were. His stomach tied into knots and his heartbeat picked up pace. From the heat on his cheeks, he knew he was flushed, which wasn’t helpful at all considering he was paler than usual this time of month. Remus desperately hoped Sirius would misinterpret the blush as a sign of suffering from his wounds.

The air around them thickened, and for a second Remus thought he saw Sirius leaning infinitesimally closer. But then Sirius coughed, and leant away.

“I should probably get back.”

Remus cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment and disappointment, and turned his head around to look at the ceiling, the curtain, anything but Sirius, “you should.”

Sirius left after lifting the Muffliato over his bed and casting a Disillusionment Charm over himself. Remus let out a long breath after he closed the door, and rolled over onto his side. But try as he might, he couldn’t fall asleep, and all that was in his mind was how beautiful Sirius’s eyes looked when they were that close.

(*)

_ I’ll never be the same _

_ I’m caught inside the memories _

_ The promises, our yesterdays _

(*)

The train speeds by the countryside into King’s Cross, and even before he gets off, Remus can hear the families on the platform yelling happily. He grabs his trunk, slings his cloak over his arm, and slides open the compartment door to find Sirius leaning against the other side of the door in an awkward posture so that he doesn’t block the corridor. He turns around when he hears the door opening.

None of them speaks. Sirius shifts his weight repeatedly between his feet in embarrassment.

“Yes?” Remus decides to break the silence.

Sirius looks up, surprise written all over his face, and Remus realizes that this is the first time after the December full moon that he has spoken to Sirius first.

“Uh,” Sirius’s hand flies to his hair, a habit he catches off of James, “James’s parents are throwing a Christmas party on the Eve,” he says, not meeting Remus’s eyes, “and you’re invited –”

Remus’s eyebrows shot up.

“—that is, if you want to come, I mean – if you don’t –”

It would’ve been funny in another situation, seeing Sirius so nervous and stumbling over his words.

“Will Peter be there?”

Sirius latches onto the question as though it’s a lifesaver, “yes! And James is asking Lily right now and –”

“Moony! Lily says she’s coming over for Christmas!” Comes James’s voice two compartments down.

Remus sighs, turns towards James’s direction, and shouts, “tell her she’s a bloody traitor!”

“Hey!” Lily’s indignant voice floats across, “I can still visit you before then!”

Remus smiles, before turning back to Sirius, who is gaping.

“Something on my face?”

Sirius shakes his head, “no, just – haven’t seen you smile in a while.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

He regrets it instantly. The sentence comes out all wrong.

Sirius’s face falls dramatically quickly, and he seems to fold in on himself. Remus takes a deep breath and releases it slowly.

“I’m sorry, that was harsh. Anyway, I’ll be there on Christmas Eve.”

Sirius looks like he wants to say something, but he simply nods, and offers to help Remus with his trunk.

“It’s fine, I can manage.”

And with that, Remus gets off the train. He is greeted by his parents, both of whom give him a hug. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sirius standing with the Potters. He’s smiling when greeting them, but Remus can’t help noticing that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Those eyes have been one of his favourite things about Sirius. Those eyes that make him drown whenever they’re looking at him. Those eyes that are so very tender when they kiss.

And those eyes that will forever haunt him.

(*)

It was four in the morning, but the light in one of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories was still on.

With a triumphant yelp, James held up an enormous piece of parchment inked with words and lines with considerable delicacy.

“Lads, I think we did it!”

Although thoroughly exhausted, the three other Marauders huddled around the small table they had set up in the middle of their room.

The entirety of the castle was on display before them, down to each moving staircase and secret passageway. Occasionally, there was a dot labelled _Minerva McGonagall_ strolling in the corridors. The four of them looked eagerly around the map, and then Peter whooped.

“Look! There we are!”

And there they were, four dots with their respective names labelled next to them, overlapping one another because they were sitting together.

“Finally!” Remus breathed, throwing his wand onto the table and yawned loudly.

“No, no,” Sirius poked Remus in the ribs, “we still need to add salutations.”

“And something to keep Snivellus from nosing around.” James added excitedly, no trace of sleepiness in his voice.

“And a way to conceal the ink when we’re not using it.” Continued Sirius, practically dancing with glee.

Remus groaned, and slumped his head onto the table, “why did I agree to do this again?”

“Because you love us.” James grinned shamelessly, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Remus grumbled something unintelligibly with his head still on the table.

“Didn’t catch that, Moony, sorry.” Sirius smirked.

“I said, you’re all wankers.” Remus raised his head. There was a huge patch of red on his forehead.

Sirius moved closer, grabbed his shoulders (and consequently throwing James’s arm off), and starting to knead through his sore muscles, “better?”

Remus’s mind was so fuzzy with fatigue that he didn’t comprehend what had just happened until much later. At that moment, though, he sighed in content, and, with a lazy flick of his wand, refilled his cup of tea and the other three cups of coffee.

James and Peter stared, and turned to look at Sirius, who seemed to only realize what he had done. He withdrew his hands, and answered James’s and Peter’s questioning looks with a raise of his eyebrow.

James looked at Sirius for a moment, then shrugged. That conversation was for another time.

They managed to figure out what to put on the front of the map with only a small amount of arguing.

_“Why am I last?!”_

_“Because we’re all better than you.”_

_“That’s not true! Moony, tell him that’s not true.”_

_“That’s not true, Sirius.”_

_“I’m hurt, Moony! I thought you’re on my side! –”_

_“I’m on nobody’s side, Padfoot.”_

_“—and why are you the first?”_

_“Because without me you lot would probably end up having detentions to spare for a lifetime or twenty.”_

_“He has a point, though, Padfoot.”_

_“Shut up, Wormtail.”_

_“I think it’s fine the way it is now –”_

_“No – Moony don't –”_

_“—and it’s done! No going back!”_

_“MOONY! WHY AM I LAST?!”_

_“Because you’re yelling and my head hurts.”_

_“I’m going to stay last on our legacy, Moony, why would you do that to me?”_

_“It does have a nice ring to it, though –”_

_“SHUT UP, WORMTAIL!”_

And they managed to figure out what mechanism to put on the map so that Snivellus would be most infuriated with significantly fewer arguments.

_“Easy, I’ll go first: Padfoot would like to advise Snivellus to fuck off and stop being such a git.”_

_“No swearing on the map. And you’re being a git, Padfoot, he’ll know it’s from us at once!”_

_“You do it then.”_

_“Prongs would like to suggest Mr Snape to wash his underpants daily.”_

_“_ Mr _Snape?!”_

_“I like that! And we can be Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.”_

_“Shut up, Wormtail.”_

_“Moony? What are you scribbling down?”_

_“‘Mr Moony presents his compliments to Mr Snape –’_ Compliments _?”_

_“‘—and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.’ Savage, Moony.”_

_“‘Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Mr Snape is an ugly git.’”_

_“Hey! I was gonna say that!”_

_“Too late, my friend, I already d – OW!”_

_“Tosser. ‘Mr Padfoot would like to remind Mr Snape that nothing is nastier than his greying underpants.’”_

_“‘Mr Wormtail bids Mr Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slime-ball.’”_

_“This is splendid.”_

_“Hey do you think he would become a professor someday?”_

_“What gives you that idea, Pete, he’s so incompetent in human contact that even a full-grown mountain troll could communicate better than he does.”_

_“I dunno, just a thought. What if he comes across the map in the future?”_

_“Pete’s got a point. We’ll want it to be charmed perfectly so Snivellus doesn’t get suspicious.”_

_“Fine! If he ever becomes a professor – Merlin forbids – then we’ll switch out the ‘Mr’s with ‘Professor’s.”_

_“And I’ll turn mine to this – Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor.”_

And at last, they managed to figure out the sort-of incantation to use to conceal and reveal the map.

_“How abaout ‘Let’s fuck shit up’?”_

_“No swearing on the map, Padfoot, Merlin.”_

_“Fine! ‘I swear I’m up to no good’ then?”_

_“It’s not bad, but let’s swear_ solemnly _that we’re up to no good.”_

_“Nice one, James.”_

_“And to conceal the map?”_

_“‘Mission accomplished’?”_

_“What are you, a secret underground agent?”_

_“Well it’s better than ‘job’s done’, isn’t it?”_

_“‘Job’s well done’, then?”_

_“You’re not helping, Wormtail.”_

_“Since all we do is mischief… ‘mischief managed’?”_

_“Merlin you’re a genius, Moony!”_

_“That’s why we put you first!”_

(*)

Remus falls asleep on his way home. When he reaches his family’s little cottage, an owl is already there waiting for him.

The note's from Lily.

_Dear Remus,_

_I asked my mum and dad first thing, and they said it’s okay for me to stay at your place for a day or two. So I’m thinking maybe going to yours on the 23rd? That way we can go to the Potters’ together, if you want. Is that okay for you?_

_Let me know._

_Love,_

_Lily_

“Mum!”

“Yes, darling?”

His parents are sitting in the kitchen, sipping cups of tea. Remus gives them the note.

“Of course she can come and stay with us.” Hope says, reading the note, “but are you not staying home for Christmas this year?”

Her voice is steady, but Remus knows her well enough to catch the trace of disappointment in her tone. And he hates it.

“The party’s only for the Eve. I’ll be home by dinner the next day.” He promises.

Lyall says nothing after reading the note, but pats Remus on the back.

(*)

_ I just can’t walk away _

_ Cause after loving you _

_ I can never be the same _

(*)

The first couple of days at home go by uneventfully bar from the two letters sent to him. The first one comes from James, a day after the holidays began, to thank him for the Grunnion card and to check whether Remus is still going to be there at the party. In between the lines are James’s subtle way of asking him to “talk to Padfoot, please”. Remus sighs – he’s been doing this rather a lot lately – and puts it in his bedside drawer after scribbling an abrupt note that confirms his attending the Potters’ Christmas party. He doesn’t mention anything about talking to Sirius, nor does he feel he needs to mention it.

The second letter is from Sirius. It's long, and messy for Sirius’s standards – his upbringing means that he was taught elegant penmanship – and quite a bit of the letter is crossed out.

Remus draws in a deep breath, and begins to read.

_Dear ~~Moony~~ Remus,_

_I’m really not good at writing letters so ~~bear with me~~ I’m sorry if this turns out to be disastrous. But I don’t think I have anything to lose anymore, so here goes._

_Truth is, I cannot say “I’m sorry” enough. ~~Nothing I say or do can ever make up~~ These words are so shallow, they literally mean nothing compared to what I did to you. But I’m still saying them over and over again to you, ~~Moony~~ Remus, that I’m terribly, terribly sorry. No matter what had happened between me and Snivellus, I should’ve never done that to you. You placed that trust on me, and I had betrayed it. I’m sorry._

_~~I was just so angry, at him, at this unfair world. When I was heading down, Snivellus caught me and said he had overheard us plotting something for the full moon. Honestly I have no idea how he could’ve done that, since we never did that in public. And he said things about you. Said he had his own theory of what you are, calling you obscene names, and all those nasty, stupid things, and he wouldn’t let me leave until I “confirm his theory”, and I lost it. I yelled at him to go check for himself, if he so dares. I never thought he would. I thought he would know better than to go near that tree or, even if he did, that bonkers of a tree would slash him across the face or something. And…and you know the rest.~~ _

_I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about it. That was tactless of me. I’m sorry._

_The thing is, Remus, I don’t know how to deal with this. I can manage a quarrel, hell even a full-on fight, but silent treatment is the one thing I don’t know what to do with. I’m pants at this, I know, ~~I’d rather you~~ At least if you yelled at me, you’d feel better._

_I should stop writing now. You probably don’t even want to read this, ~~and I don’t blame you~~. But if you did read this, and have gotten this far, then I’m really sorry. ~~It’s the only thing that seems appropriate to say to you now.~~ I don’t know how to make it up to you. Tell me how to make it up to you._

_Remus. Remus. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry._

Remus is crying by the end of the letter. His fingers brushes over the last line of words, caressing Sirius’s proclamation of love and his desperate apologies.

 _I love you too._ He thinks. _I’m just not sure we can ever be the same again._

(*)

The Marauder’s Map, they called it. The Marauder’s Map was a huge success. It worked perfectly, even the passwords for the locked secret passageways showed up correctly every time. They were so happy that they deemed the next Hogsmeade visit after the “birth of the map” as celebratory.

Remus had no idea how it happened. But on the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, when he was changing in the bathroom, the bathroom door was barged open by none other than Sirius Black.

Remus let out an indignant squawk before tugging his sweater on.

“It’s not like we’ve never seen your scars, Moony, relax.” Sirius drawled, reaching around Remus to grab his own bag of toiletries.

“Still, some propriety won’t kill you.” Remus retorted, smoothing his messy hair with his fingers.

Sirius straightened up to face him, his face in mock disbelief, “how dare you, Remus Lupin, I’m the King of Grace!”

“Yeah, King of Falling-Off-Your-Bed-In-Your-Sleep, more like.”

“Oi!” Sirius lunged forward, knocking Remus onto the floor.

The mock wrestle had them becoming a heap on the bathroom tile, thrashing and laughing like three-year-olds. And after a few minutes, to Remus’s surprise, Sirius started to tickle him, and that had him bursting into actual giggles that he would swear – till his dying day – weren’t coming from him.

Eventually, they stopped, because James had banged on the open bathroom door and shouted, in a very motherly tone, “grow up and get dressed, you two! For Merlin’s sake you’re sixteen, not three!” He had stormed away after that, leaving Sirius and Remus staring at each other until both of them were bursting with laughter.

As the amusement subsided, they finally came to the realization that they were in a very compromising position, Sirius on top of Remus, and that their faces were inches apart.

Their eyes met, grey to amber.

Neither of them knew who made the first move, but the next moment they were kissing. And not just the peck-on-the-lips closed-mouth kissing, but snogging. They latched onto each other like magnets, tasting each other’s mouths as if their lives depended upon it. Remus growled against Sirius’s lips, and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him lower, and closer to him.

And Sirius, throwing caution to the wind, grinded his hips down.

Remus gasped, and pulled back slightly to stare at Sirius, who was looking back at him through hooded eyelids. The attraction, admiration, and desire all mixed into the pool of grey, and in that instance, Remus fell impossibly more in love with Sirius.

Their kiss turned from a heated competition for dominance into a softer, more languid statement, almost like a reassurance, because neither of them were certain this was actually happening, and both wanted to make sure this was reality.

Hesitantly, Remus jerked his hips upwards.

They were both so hard, leaning into each other, panting into each other’s mouths. Sirius was barely supporting himself with his arms on the tiled floor, and most of his weight was born by Remus, who was hugging him so impossibly tight that they could melt into each other.

“Hey Moony have you seen – OW MY EYES!”

They froze when they heard Peter’s wail of despair, but didn’t let go of their hold on each other.

“I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT YOU ABSOLUTE TOSSERS I CANNOT UNSEE THAT!”

Remus flushed scarlet, remembering only now that neither they nor James had closed the bathroom door.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Peter covered his eyes with his left palm, while his other hand was groping aimlessly around the counter looking for something, “ _get a room_.”

Sirius smirked, and got to his feet, smoothing down his shirt in the process, “in case you haven’t noticed, we _are_ in a room, Wormy.” He snatched the bottle of floss off the counter and thrusted it into Peter’s outstretched hands, “and you were the one barging in here without knocking.”

Peter squinted at the bottle through the gaps of his fingers before lowering his hand and glared at his friends.

“A room with an open door is not a room, you dimwit, it’s an open space.” He glanced at Remus, who had just gotten up from the tiles and was rubbing his neck with one hand, his sweater looking thoroughly mussed up, “and I know it’s about bloody time for you two to get this sorted out, but can you please have just a tad bit of decency?”

“Sorry, Pete.” Remus gave him a sheepish grin, to which Peter couldn’t help but return.

“Get dressed already, we’re leaving in five.”

Peter left with the bottle of floss, and Sirius turned back to face Remus, whose face was still tinging with red, and grinned, wide and carefree, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Is that why you said you don’t have a date for Hogsmeade?” Remus asked, amazed that he could keep his voice so light-hearted when he was so mesmerized with Sirius’s eyes.

“That, and the fact that we’re supposed to congratulate ourselves on successfully manufacturing a complicated cartographic project.” Sirius drawled in a tone that sounded suspiciously like the Minister for Magic’s, waving his hand around in the air.

Remus rolled his eyes so hard he could see the back of his head, “come on, you drama queen.”

When they arrived at the Three Broomsticks with their hands linked, James and Peter were sitting in a booth. James, to the surprise of Remus and Sirius, was looking rather grumpy, and, as the two got to the booth, they saw James slipping Peter a bag of coins.

“What was that?” Remus asked sharply, sliding into his seat.

Peter looked like he might combust with glee, “Prongs owes me ten Galleon.”

Before either of them could ask what the bet was on, James turned his glare onto them, “can’t you two have waited until Christmas?”

Sirius burst out laughing while Remus stared at James in disbelief.

“You bet on when Sirius and I would get together?”

“Yes! He said around Christmas in sixth-year and I said earlier than that.”

“In sixth – when did you start the bet?”

This was incredulous, and Sirius, that git, was doubled over laughing so hard Remus could see tears forming in his eyes.

James, deciding that he was having none of it, reached across the table and smacked Sirius on the head.

“This is actually the third bet, mate.” James straightened up and threw a dirty look at Sirius, who was now snickering at him for losing money, “the first one started in fourth-year, and both of us thought you were going to sort out your shit at the end of the winter term.”

“And that obviously didn’t happen, so we went on to the second bet in fifth-year –”

“—and I said you two would probably be together by the time we perfected our Animagi transformation, but Wormy voted for the end of school year, again –”

“—that went down the drain because neither of you did anything, so here we are, the third try.”

Remus was stunned into silence. When he finally found his voice again, he asked, “was I that obvious?”

All three of them turned to stare at him.

“You? No!” James laughed, “you were the unpredictability in the bet, Moony.”

Now Sirius was trying to shut James up, but James, smug that he could get revenge, ducked out of Sirius’s way.

“We were just sick of hearing Padfoot whining and pining and doing nothing about it. We did try to tell you subtly, but you waved it away every time like it was nothing.”

Remus remembered how anxious he was during those talks because he thought James and Peter had figured out his feelings for Sirius, but apparently those were for Sirius’s benefit.

He grinned, and turned to look at Sirius, who was very flustered, which was a rare sight.

“I’m sorry I laughed at you for losing the bet, Prongs, will you shut up now?” Sirius growled, glaring a hole into James’s forehead.

(*)

Remus is quiet the morning Lily is scheduled to come. His eyes are red and puffy, and there’s this trace of melancholy in his eyes that Hope hasn’t seen for quite a while – ever since that one holiday when Remus comes home and announces to them that he has friends.

Wordlessly, Hope scoops another fried egg onto Remus’s plate. Her eyes are searching him intently, but she doesn’t ask. Remus will tell her what’s wrong if he’s ready.

Lily comes around noon, but when Hope calls for her son, she receives no answer. After telling Lily to “make yourself at home”, she goes upstairs to see what Remus is doing, and her heart breaks when she finds him lying on the bed, his face tear-streaked, his hands clutching a letter with a lot of strikethroughs and no signature.

Hope tells Lily that Remus isn’t feeling very well at the moment, and Lily asks if she can keep him company.

“Of course, dear,” replies Hope, with a worried glance upstairs, “but maybe later.”

Remus doesn’t come down for lunch, but he does when Hope and Lily are washing the dishes.

“Mum do you have – oh hey Lily.”

Hope and Lily turn around to see Remus looking rather pale, but otherwise fine.

Lily smiles at him while Hope grabs him leftover mac and cheese from lunch.

The day goes by quietly, with the occasional humming from Hope and the small conversations here and there between Lily and Remus.

After dinner, the two of them retreat back to Remus’s room, and Lily finally levels him with a thoughtful look, “now can you tell what really happened?”

“What?”

“Your eyes were puffy when you came down after lunch, and you were absent-minded and sulky all day. Remus, has something happened?”

Remus sighs inwardly. There is no reason not to tell Lily about it. He reaches for Sirius’s letter and hands it to Lily without a word.

Lily is near the brink of tears when she finishes reading the letter. Closing the distance between them, she pulls him into a fierce hug.

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll always be here.” She mutters into his ear before letting go of him.

Remus cannot tell Lily how grateful he is for her, and for not forcing him to talk about whatever it is when he himself is trying to fathom this mess of a situation. He knows he will want to talk about it eventually, but when the time comes, Lily won’t be the one he needs talking to.

“Did you write back to him?”

He shakes his head.

“You will have to talk to him, though.”

“I know,” he puts the letter away in the same drawer where James’s letter is, “but I don’t want to discuss this over letters.”

Lily nods understandingly, and changes the topic, leaving Remus wondering what he has done to deserve her as one of his best friends.

(*)

Remus was blissfully happy that he didn’t even object to Sirius’s occasional public display of affection. They would be eating in the Great Hall with their shoulders pressed together, and Sirius would creep his hand over Remus’s thigh underneath the table. The first time that happened, Remus nearly choked on a piece of chicken breast he was chewing.

Courtesy of Remus’s Prefect status, they would sneak off to one of the deserted classrooms after patrols; and when they arrived back to their dormitory later than expected, James and Peter would be there waiting for them, smirking and snickering, waving the map between them. After several incidents where James and Peter would charge in under the Invisibility Cloak just when things had gotten steamy during their makeout sessions, Remus decided that enough was enough, and confiscated the map.

“You can’t confiscate it, Moony!” James practically yelled, trying to snatch the map out of Remus’s raised hand without much success.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” grinned Remus, feeling mighty as the table turned, “I just did.”

Sirius, who was usually on James’s side, stood by his boyfriend without so much as a sway.

“You had it coming, Prongs.”

Peter, who had chosen to recline on his bed, let out a snicker-y squeal. James rounded on him.

“It was your idea!”

“Was not!”

And the bicker only stopped when both of them realized that their lovey-dovey friends had disappeared along with the map.

“Moony, you absolute prat!”

(*)

They Apparates just outside the Potter cottage in Godric’s Hollow together in the afternoon of the 24th. The house looks incredibly festive, with all the outdoor decorations charmed to dance and sing Christmas Carols in soft voices. Remus swears he has just seen a garden gnome dressed as a Santa Claus scurrying by.

The door opens minutes after the loud crack of their Apparition has subsided, and James pokes his head out. His face relaxes into a wide grin when he sees the two of them.

“Come on in, Pete’s already here!” He pulls the door wide open. The soprano of Celestina Warbeck floats out.

“Who else is going to be here?” Lily asks, taking off her cloak and examining the interior of the cottage with amazement.

“Just us, no one else.” James answers, locking the door shut before craning his neck and shouting to the general direction of the rooms upstairs, “Remus and Lily are here!”

This isn’t the first time Remus has been to the Potters’, but he has never visited on a Christmas Eve before, and the decors fascinate him. True, his father is a wizard, but in their house, they choose to go by Muggle decorations because they are cheaper and attract less attention.

There are wreaths hanging on every door, the bells sound every time someone enters or exits; stockings are hanging on the mantlepiece, asking for presents to be wrapped inside them; the Christmas tree looks abnormally huge, with red and gold ornaments hanging from it. Remus can even see four small stuffed animals on the tree. He chuckles when he sees the tiny stag, dog, rat, and wolf chasing one another around the tree, and occasionally, the stag would head-butt the dog or the dog would nose the wolf, and the rat would tag along, emitting little squeals of delight.

Those full moons were among some of his best memories.

Remus’s smile falters.

How have they come to this?

Footsteps descending the stairs make Remus turn from the tree. Sirius and Peter are coming down, both wrapped in comfy looking jumpers.

And just like always, the sight of Sirius knocks Remus breathless, despite the chasm between them.

They look at each other, and the living room fades away. They are the only ones that matter, that exist. Sirius’s eyes find Remus’s, and it’s as though time has stopped, or has even rewound back to the first time they have kissed, stormy grey into honey amber.

But Remus knows better. He shakes his head, and whatever it is between them vanishes into thin air.

“Hi Pete, Sirius.” He says instead, simple and reveals nothing.

If the four are astounded that he has spoken to Sirius first, none of them shows it. They sit down on the carpet around the coffee table and exchange news and information, sporadically chatting about their respective holidays. Remus joins in the conversation every now and then, but Sirius remains uncharacteristically quiet. Even when James is animatedly talking about their ride on the motorbike the other day, Sirius doesn’t show any sign of excitement or eagerness, and not once does he try to tell the story from his perspective like he always does.

It makes Remus question himself, whether he has crossed an invisible line in treating Sirius this way after the December moon.

Later that night, when everyone has been ushered to bed by Mrs Potter after exchanging Merry Christmases and exhausting her supply of eggnog, James comes into Remus’s room and asks him about Sirius’s letter.

The first thing that goes through Remus’s mind is, _of course Prongs would know_.

“What about it?”

He inwardly cringes at the sound of his tone.

James also catches that air of nonchalant. He blanches, “did you –”

“Burn it? No. Read it? Yes.” Remus says, suddenly very tired.

“Then do you not care how he feels?”

His tone is soft, and Remus is sure James doesn’t mean it the wrong way, but right that moment, something snaps inside him.

“Do I not – of course I fucking care, James, I turn into a monster once a month, that doesn’t mean I _am_ a monster!”

James, realizing how awful his question sounded, goes even paler, “I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean –”

“But has _he_ cared? Has he, when he told Snape to follow me into the shack? Have my feelings ever crossed his mind when he basically handed my secret to the last person I’d want to let know? It’s all fun and games when you’re messing around with my ‘furry little problem’ –,” Remus air-quotes, “—until it’s not, James!”

James keeps his silence during Remus’s outbreak, and gives the latter time to regain his control.

Remus takes a deep breath, steadying his voice, “imagine what would’ve happened if Snape had entered the shack. And then what? He’s rightfully punished for being a nosy git? Because I wouldn’t wish lycanthropy on anyone, not even Snape. And to think that wasn’t even the worst possible outcome. What if he was killed by the wolf? Did Sirius honestly think that, just because Dumbledore and the school staff know about my condition, I’m gonna be spared?”

Remus rubs his hand across his face furiously. He hates it when he cries.

“The reality for me would be prosecution without trial, had he really died in my hands, because the society never listens to someone like me. You guys can joke about my condition all you want, but it’s the reality for me.”

“I’m sorry, Moony. I’m sorry you have to go through all this.”

“It’s not your fault, Prongs. It’s none of your fault.”

“And Sirius –”

“This is the only punishment I can give him, Prongs.”

Silence falls upon them. This is the only time Remus has lost his control over his emotions after the initial fight between Sirius and him, but James has wished he’d lash out more.

“I’m not even that angry anymore. I want us to be friends again, I just don’t know how to trust him.”

James doesn’t know what to say to that. Nothing sounds right at the moment. For Remus, betrayal is greater than grief and anger combined. And frankly, has he been in Remus’s situation, he would’ve zero idea how to deal with it either.

“I’m tired,” Remus mutters, pulling the blanket over his torso, “good night, Prongs.”

Recognizing the dismissal, James backs out of the room.

“Night, Moony.”

(*)

November past by in a blink of an eye; no wonder people said time flies when you were having a good time. And before he knew it, the next full moon is looming closer.

It was the last full moon of the term, so they were all pretty excited about it – well, not Remus so much, who was feeling increasingly on edge as the moon got fuller. It didn’t help that the full moon was during exam period, when all the pressure and anxiety were running high.

Unfortunately for Remus, it was also the longest full moon in the year. The moon rose as early as quarter past six in the early evening, and both James and Sirius had exams that day. Peter had offered to go, but from the look in his eyes and the expression on his face, Remus knew he probably brought it up after being forced. He thanked Peter but declined. After all, what use would a rat do against a fully-grown werewolf?

So there he was, walking towards the Whomping Willow on his own again, just like the last full moon, at half past five. Only, this one was going to be even nastier than the last.

He warded the room the same way he did last time, trusting that Prongs and Padfoot would be able to break down the door if need be. James had told him that Sirius had a detention to sit with McG after the exam, to which Remus had rolled his eyes, and that they would go down to the shack as soon as Sirius’s detention ended. Nonetheless, Remus still chained himself up with a thinner length of metal, and situated himself at the far end of the room again, just in case.

The moon shone with its usual soft glow, bathing the room in rays of iridescent moonbeam. As the sound of crackling bones echoed through the shack, Remus bit back a scream and braced himself for the final longest moon of the year.

The transformation was gruesome, and Remus passed out several times during, each time waking up to more blood and broken bones. The last time he woke from blacking out, his senses were wolfish, but his thoughts were still human. He thought he smelled the familiar scent of James, but before he could take a whiff again, Remus the human blacked out, and Moony the wolf took over.

When he woke up again he was in the Hospital Wing, without any recollection of how he got there. He opened his eyes with a groan, and was startled to see so many adults surrounding the foot of his bed, whispering among themselves, their faces grim.

Remus looked around carefully. No other patients were in the Hospital Wing. So what happened?

“Ahh, Mr Lupin. I see you’re awake.”

Dumbledore examined him through his half-moon spectacles, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Poppy insisted you need rest, and I agree, but there are some urgent matters that need to be discussed.”

Remus sat up, wincing as the movement tore at his still-fresh wounds.

“Yes, sir?” His voice was scratchy, presumably from howling himself raw last night.

“Last night, during your transformation, a student somehow managed to get through the Whomping Willow into the tunnel.”

What little colour he had on his face before was drained as he absorbed what Dumbledore had just said.

“However,” the Headmaster added hastily, upon seeing Remus’s expression, “the student was not harmed. Someone saved him from the wolf at the last minute.”

“Who –”

He stopped mid-question.

Remus didn’t need to ask who was the one that nearly died, or who was the person that saved him.

Dread and despair ran through him, turning his blood cold.

The wolf wouldn’t know anything, but he would remember everything that had happened during the transformation when he was conscious as a human being again.

He knew he had smelled James, not Prongs, last night before the wolf completely took control, and he had wondered why James didn’t turn into the stag when he was that close to the shack, but there had been another smell, an unfamiliar one, yet the scent wasn’t foreign to his nose, meaning he must knew this scent from somewhere else, under other situations.

His thoughts were confirmed when Slughorn stepped aside to reveal a boy with a hooked nose and greasy hair.

He was relieved that Snape wasn’t killed, but at the same time, his heart sank at the thought of someone else knowing his secret. Especially when that someone else was his enemy and treated him with open disgust and contempt even before he knew about his lycanthropic situation.

Dumbledore was explaining to him and to the teachers how this kind of incident could be avoided in the future, but Remus wasn’t listening. He wondered vaguely where Sirius and the others were.

“Now, Mr Snape, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to keep what you know about Mr Lupin to yourself –”

Remus glanced back at Snape, who was staring incredulously and defiantly at Dumbledore, and was about to protest when Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him.

“—and to never speak of it again. I trust I do not need to remind you that disclosing a person’s lycanthropic condition to a third party is against the law.”

Snape swallowed, “but he’s a danger to everyone, sir.”

Everyone, except Remus himself, reacted to that one sentence – Pomfrey gasped, McGonagall glared, the ghost of a “how dare you” on her lips, Slughorn’s face contorted, making him look sickly, and Dumbledore levelled a stern, almost angry gaze at Snape.

“No one is a danger to anyone within this castle, understood?”

Remus closed his eyes when the teachers left, but the moment of peace didn’t last long as the door to the Hospital Wing banged open, revealing three panting boys.

Madam Pomfrey was livid to the point where it was comical.

“The boy needs rest! Rest!” She shouted, exiting her office and flailing her arms in an attempt to shoo them away. “Can’t you see how pale he is? Out!”

“Madam Pomfrey,” Remus called, his voice dripping with exhaustion, “it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, Mr Lupin!” She rounded on him, “you’re supposed to be sleeping right now.”

“I’ll sleep later.” He said, looking at her imploringly, “please?”

Madam Pomfrey steadied her famous disapproving glare on him for a long moment before conceding, “fine. Make sure you remember to take the Sleeping Draught.”

With a look at James, Sirius, and Peter, she went back to her office and closed the door.

James was all over him in a heartbeat, checking his wounds and asking how he was feeling. It was overwhelming to see James this worried over a post-full moon recovery.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Remus said, squirming out of James’s mother hen tendencies, “and I’m not expelled, or exiled, thanks to you.”

“What –”

“You pulled Snivellus back out just in time,” explained Remus, smiling at him gratefully, “so thank you for not turning me into a murderer.”

“Yeah…about that…”

It was then that Remus noticed the odd expression on Sirius’s face, or the nervous glances from Peter, dancing between James and Sirius and him.

“What? What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get angry after hearing this.” Sirius pleaded.

Remus stared at his boyfriend with an eyebrow raised, perplexed.

“I might’ve told Snivellus how to get through the Whomping Willow.”

Remus was so stunned he didn’t know how to react. His whole body stiffened and his ears started ringing.

Hearing that was like being hit by a lightning, and it was worse than knowing how Snape had learnt of his secret.

“You did _what_?”

For the first time since they knew him, Remus was properly angered. His face was devoid of all emotions, his eyes flashing dangerously as they stared at Sirius, and his whole body was trembling.

For the first time, they had a glimpse of the wolf side in Remus.

“I –” Sirius faltered under Remus’s eyes, “he was annoying me and insulting you and wouldn’t let me leave until I –”

“So you thought,” Remus was seething, “you thought it would be _funny_ to just tell him to get to the tunnel and what? To see for himself?”

“Moony –”

“Don’t call me that.”

All three of them flinched. Remus’s tone was even, almost unfeeling, and they wished he’d spat at them instead.

“Remus, he was nosing around asking about you condition, and he kept calling you names, and he wouldn’t leave me alone –”

“Then you should’ve kept your mouth shut and fucking ignored him until he was bored and left! Him bothering you and calling me names weren’t enough excuses for you to just hand him the location like a gift! What if James wasn’t there on time? What if I sniffed him sooner? What if I killed him?! What would happen then? That we’d all say ‘ahh good riddance’? Did you really believe, just on the basis of Snape being a gigantic arsehole, that he deserved to be bitten or killed?!”

“Remus –” James placed a hand on his forearm, but he shook it off.

“This isn’t some kind of a prank, Sirius, this is a real-life situation. _MY_ real-life situation! Did it ever occur to you, when you were telling him to go find out for himself, that I might be the one that’ll eventually have to withstand all the responsibilities and all the blame?”

Remus knew he sounded selfish, but how else was he going to make them understand?

“I could say it was my fault –”

Remus huffed humourlessly, “you just don’t get it do you? You, Sirius, although disowned by your family, is still carrying the Black family name. Not to mention you’re a pureblooded human being. The wizarding society is forgiving when it comes to someone like you, not me.”

“But he was insulting _you_ and –”

Sirius was getting frustrated, as if he didn’t quite understand, still, why Remus was so pissed at him. Even James heard his annoyance and he shot Sirius a warning glare saying _shut up NOW Padfoot!_

“And I thank you for trying to come to my aid, Sirius, but all you did was nearly making me into a murderer while handing my secret over to him on a gilded plate, so forgive me if I’m not profusely thanking you and head over heels smitten with you right now.”

The rest of December went by torturously slow. Remus avoided the dormitory as much as he could after he was discharged by Madam Pomfrey, but no matter how hard he tried, there would still be one or two nights in a week that, when he headed back to their room, Sirius would still be awake, and obviously waiting for him. He didn’t try to approach Remus, for which Remus was internally thankful, but his eyes would follow Remus wherever he went around the dormitory, waiting and waiting and waiting.

They turned from lovers to practically strangers. At first, Remus was just livid that his friend would put him in that position. After the initial anger flared out, the betrayal was what hurt the most. He trusted Sirius with his secret and his love and his life, but he had never once imagined that Sirius would use that trust as a failed defence mechanism against Severus Snape.

And it didn’t help that they were exploring a whole other level of intimacy before all hell broke loose.

(*)

Christmas morning comes with the smell of gingerbread and – to Remus’s delight – hot chocolate.

“Merry Christmas, dear.”

The voice makes Remus jump, and he looks up from his cup of hot chocolate to see Mrs Potter smiling at him.

“How was your sleep?”

He didn’t really sleep much last night, after the talk with James, but nonetheless, he gives her a reassuring smile and says, “it was good, thank you.”

Mr Potter comes into the kitchen then, and asks Remus the same thing, to which Remus gives the same answer. After he finishes the hot chocolate, Remus is just going to wash the mug when Mrs Potter calls for him.

“Mind if I have a word, Remus?”

Remus shakes his head no, and Mrs Potter leads him into their study. She leaves the door ajar, but barely.

“Remus, dear, would you mind if I ask you about Sirius?”

Remus has some inkling that she would want to talk to him about Sirius. So he shakes his head no again.

“You see, I’ve never seen him this distraught, not even when he was disowned and had no place to go last year.”

Remus doesn’t say anything, so Euphemia carries on.

“I asked him what was wrong, and it took me quite a while to crack him open, that stubborn kid.”

That is the tone of a mother talking about her precious child, and Remus, despite himself, let out a small grin.

“The thing about Sirius,” she continues, “is that he doesn’t know how to properly control his temper. His parents never taught him that because, from the way they treated him, I doubt they know anything about temper control. And he never learns how to actually communicate with people other than the three of you.

“When he told me everything that has happened, I was shocked, to say the least. To betray someone’s trust, especially a friend who has confided in him such an important secret, is inexcusable, no matter the intention.”

It takes Remus a moment, but – “so you knew?”

“That you’re a werewolf? Yeah, I knew.”

“And you still…invited me to your house…?”

“Well I didn’t have a say in the matter, now, did I? James invited all of you before even getting off the train. I didn’t even know I was throwing a Christmas Eve party until two days ago.” She laughs, but stops abruptly when she sees the look on Remus’s face, “all jokes aside, Remus, I don’t care. You can be a vampire, for all I care, and still sit in that chair and play Wizard’s Chess with Fleamont.”

Remus has a sudden urge to hug this woman.

“All I’m trying to say is give him a chance. Lad’s awfully devastated after what happened, and I’m sure, however unlikely this might seem to you, that he never meant any harm to you,” she winks at Remus, “from the way he talks about you, I’d say that’s the last thing on his mind.”

Remus blushes. Mothers and their eerily accurate sixth sense…

“Just talk to him. Don’t let anger stand in the way of your friendship or any other relationship.”

“But that’s the thing,” says Remus hesitantly, “I’m not angry at him, I just don’t know how to put my faith back in him, or if I’m able to trust him again.”

Euphemia cocks her head and looks at him thoughtfully, “do you _want_ to trust him?”

“Of course I do.” That’s a no-brainer.

“Then just talk to him. Communication is key in any kind of relationship. Just tell him how you feel, what you think, and listen to what he wants to say. You don’t have to force yourself back into the level of trust you have of him before, Remus, because that’s impossible. But you can try one step at a time, alright?”

Remus nods. Baby steps. He can do that.

Euphemia gives him a tight hug, and leaves him in the study. It’s still early, so Remus, having nothing better to do, decides to grab a book from one of the shelves lining the wall and sits down in an armchair in a corner of the study.

He has lost track of time reading, and when he hears the door creaking open, he thinks it’s Euphemia calling him for lunch. But it isn’t.

It’s Sirius.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Remus closes the book with a finger on the page he’s reading and breaths out a small smile.

“You know me too well.”

That look of surprise is on Sirius's face again.

“Did you, um, did you receive my letter?” Sirius is fidgeting with the hem of his pyjama shirt.

“I did.”

Silence.

“And?”

“And I don’t know what to say to you.”

Sirius’s face falls, but he doesn’t say anything. If Remus needs more time and space, he’s gonna give him time and space.

“But I do want to talk to you.”

Remus stares calmly at Sirius’s profile – the jawline, the cheekbone, the straight nose, the hair tied into a bun.

And those eyes.

In the end, it’s Sirius’s eyes that surrender him. It always has been and it always will.

They occupy the only two armchairs in the study, and for a while nobody speaks.

The silence isn’t awkward, it’s just a time for the both of them to mull over what to say.

Neither of them know it can be this difficult to find the right word to say to the other person. They are so used to lazy banters and saying anything off the top of their heads that they forget what being cautious is like.

Remus eventually breaks the reticence.

“Sirius, I’m sorry.”

Sirius looks up from his overlapping hands, “for what?”

“For not talking to you. For ignoring you. For taking out my frustration on you.”

Sirius shakes his head, “you have every right to do so.”

“I don’t, and it’s not right. We were a couple, and we were supposed to work this through between us.”

Sirius inevitably notices the past tense.

“Moon – Remus, are we not a couple anymore?”

Remus doesn’t have an answer for that.

He doesn’t want them to end, to stop being a couple, but he can’t see the possibility of that in the immediate future. Friends, yes; lovers, he’s not so sure.

“Remus?” Sirius’s voice breaks. He’s on the verge of tears.

He has never cried even when his parents kicked him out of their house. But when it comes to Remus, his emotions just go haywire.

“Look, Sirius, I don’t want this to end any more than you do, but the thing is, I don’t know how to trust you again.” Sirius remains quiet, so Remus adds, “I’m not saying we’re done, it’s just – I need to know I can believe in you before I take that step with you, and right now, I can’t.”

Sirius is staring blankly outside the window. Remus sighs, puts down the book, and stands before Sirius’s armchair, cupping the latter’s face in his hands, forcing the grey eyes to look back at him.

“You asked me how you can make it up to me in your letter,” he says, his voice gentle, his thumb brushing across Sirius’s cheekbone, “then show me how to trust you.”

(*)

Baby steps, as Euphemia says.

Their friendship resumes after that talk in the study, tentatively at first, as both feel like treading on thin ice, but gradually goes back to normal, joking like they did before, to James’s and Peter’s great relief.

As for their romantic relationship, it suffers for quite a long time, but they still manage to work it back to a semi-natural state. The only notable difference is whenever they get intimate, Remus would draw back into himself, even though Sirius has never once hurt him or stepped across a line. It breaks Sirius’s heart to know that he caused all this. That takes an even longer while to rectify.

But when sixth-year bleeds into seventh, and seventh-year bleeds into a war, they hardly have time to spare for their relationship anymore; and as Remus is staying away longer and more frequently for Order businesses, what little faith that has been rebuilt between them shatters like a sand castle.

(*)

_ And how can I pretend I never knew you? _

_ Like it was all a dream? _

(*)

Thirteen years later, when Sirius Black goes back to No.12, Grimmauld Place, he finds a letter sitting on his desk. The parchment looks fresh, so it must’ve been delivered only recently. His heart aches at the all too familiar handwriting.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Hopefully this will be the first thing you see when you go back to that awful place, and hopefully it provides you a slight bit of comfort that not everything is gone. I can’t believe Dumbledore is having you locked up in there. It’s no more different than Azkaban for you._

_Fate and trust have a funny way of messing around with us, don’t you think? Just when we thought everything would be okay, the world fell apart; and when we’ve accepted the broken world as the way of life, it turns down a completely surprising route._

_I wish we had more time. Time to sort out our shit, time to grow and develop, and time to just_ be _. But we didn’t, and we made do, but it wasn’t our best try, nor did we try hard enough. I think we were both so exhausted and wanted nothing more than for the war to end that everything else just shrunk into dust. Merlin, we did take the benefit for the greater good a bit too seriously, don’t you think?_

_I’m sorry for never visiting you when you were in there. I’m sorry that I believed what the press said, even though deep down I knew better than to do that. I’m sorry for losing faith in you, when I was the one that asked you to show me trust, and when you did just that._

_I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through and for not being there by your side. I love you. I’m sorry._

_Moony_

(*)

_ I know I’ll never forget _

_ The way I always felt with you beside me _

_ And how you loved me then _

(*)

The next time they see each other, they run into each other’s arms as though they are still in their teenage years, and hugs each other so hard and fierce they can both hear bones cracking.

It’s not okay, and it won’t be for a long time to come. But they will manage to make the best out of a mediocre situation, just like they always do.


End file.
